Grace Under Pressure
by Jabberwocking
Summary: (Formerly titled Grace Under Fire. ABANDONED; BEING REWRITTEN.). Medical mystery Jace Winchester has felt alienated from her brothers Sam and Dean for as long as she can remember. When their father goes missing, the three of them team up to find him, setting off a chain of events that will change both their family and the world forever. Sisfic, canon divergent. Ships inside.
1. Prologue

(NOTE: This story was previously titled Grace Under Fire, and the main character's name was Grace. On my profile, you'll find a link to a post explaining why I changed the story's title to Grace Under Pressure, and the mc's name to Jace.)

**Title:** Grace Under Pressure

**Rating: **M for violence, language, sex, and dark subject matter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural and I do not receive any monetary compensation for writing this story.

**Trigger Warnings:** Rape/Sexual Assault; Victim-Blaming; Misogyny and biphobia (both external and internalized); Mentions of Eating Disorder; Codependency; Emotional Abuse; Drug addiction; Sex worker Dean (consensual and sex-positive but I know sex work still can be a trigger so I'm putting it here. It's like two lines of implication though.)

**Characters:** Jace Winchester, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Adam Milligan, Jo Harvelle, Michael, Ruby, Kevin Tran, various OCs

**Main Pairings:** Jace/Jo (one-sided), Jace/Ruby, Jace/Michael, Jace/Kevin, Michael/Kevin, Jace/Michael/Kevin (polyamorous), Sam/OFC, Adam/OC/Dean (love triangle, yes I know everyone hates those fight me about it.)

Now that that's all established: Hey everyone! If you follow me on tumblr at sisficionado then you know that I love sisfics, and that I've been planning this story for some time. Now it's finally time to publish and I'm super excited! Jace is a character I've had in various rps for over a year and she's very close to my heart. I'm going to start with a few notes for readers who like to look before they leap, but I promise later chapters won't have this long commentary.

The story starts just before the pilot, and is canon divergent. Don't worry, the apocalypse plotline and everything leading up to it is in tact-it just unfolds a little differently, with a few extra elements. In particular, this fic expands on hunting culture and on the history of angels and Heaven. It also includes a number of OCs outside of Jace. There's also a lot of original lore and cases, as well as some cases based on ones shown in SPN tie-in novels and in the anime series. I don't generally go through each individual canon case unless something significantly different from canon happens in the story, though. I'm lazy like that.

Anyway, if you have the time and feel like it, please review-I've worked so hard on this story, and I'd love to know what people think! Also, if you like you can drop by the blog that I run about this story (joancamilla-dot-tumblr-dot-com, there's also a link in my profile if that's easier). The blog holds pictures of Jace's faceclaim (Emilie de Ravin), other OCs, songs, meta, graphics, manips, and me laughing at my own jokes.

Lastly, I'd like to thank a couple people without whom this story just wouldn't have been possible. My best bitches Brittany and Maddi are incredible, serving as everything from sounding boards to beta readers to voices of reasons, even co-writing certain scenes with me and letting me borrow their OCs. Their support and motivation is invaluable. Also, they laugh at my jokes.

I also wanna thank the lovelies over at sisficionado, especially Erin (dwellindreams1019) and Christine (prettypanda117)-the authors of my two favorite sisfics, Carry On and and Where the Wayward Tread, respectively. Your enthusiasm and dedication is truly inspiring.

And now finally, onto the story!

* * *

**Prologue**

_From the end spring new beginnings. -_Pliny the Elder

**Lawrence Memorial Hospital. May 3rd, 1983. 1:06 PM. **

John Winchester ran a hand down his face and glanced over at his children. They were asleep, both of them, tangled up in the chair next to him, with Sam on Dean's lap. John had tried to take Sam from his oldest son, but Dean had insisted, clinging to his brother, and Sam seemed content with this.

Even now, Sam was sleeping like a rock. Yesterday had been his birthday, and he was still wearing the frosting from his cake. Dean's rest was less peaceful-even curled up with his head on the arm of the chair, he seemed ready to jump up at any moment. John could relate. It's how he'd slept most nights since he'd gotten back from Vietnam. His stomach turned at the thought of his boy as a veteran.

But kids were resilient in a way adults weren't. Dean would be okay. Sammy would be okay. He tried to tell convince himself, over and over. Trying not to think about fire and blood and the fact that Mary, his Mary, was _gone gone gone. _Trying not to think about the fact that there was no possible way their daughter could have survived the fire when Mary didn't. That at any moment, a doctor would come out, apologize for his loss, and he wouldn't be surprised but it would still be another knife twisting in his gut.

For as long as he'd been here-and he was not sure how long it had been-a doctor had come out every so often, telling him that his daughter was struggling, but not hopeless. She's a fighter, they told him. There's a chance.

But John knew from personal experience that a fighting spirit was no guarantee of survival.

John was no fool. In his mind, he knew that his daughter would never survive. There was just no way. No way she could survive her mother's charred remains-three months before the due date, no less.

And yet.

Deep in his heart, he couldn't help but hold onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd survive. The medical staff certainly seemed to think there was a chance, otherwise he wouldn't still be here. As for John himself, maybe he just needed something to hold onto, some light in what was the darkest night of his life, because trying to let go of that hope was like trying to to pull teeth.

"Mr. Winchester?"

John looked up abruptly. In front of him was a tall, dark-skinned woman in scrubs, looking as exhausted as he felt.

"I'm Dr. Alderman. I'm the head surgeon here."

"Look, I-"

"Your daughter is alive." She seemed to pick up on the helplessness in his eyes, because she refused to let him finish. "She's...fragile. Her lungs weren't fully formed. We didn't think she'd make it, but she just wouldn't give up. She's stable now. You can see her if you like."

John blinked up at her the way one blinks at the sun in the morning, when it feels like it was so dark just moments ago. It took what felt like a long time for her words to sink in. Then he looked over at his sons.

"We can have a nurse look after them," the doctor assured him.

He nodded. Stood up slowly. Refused to leave the room until he saw with his own eyes that his children were being looked after, and even then he was reluctant to leave. Then he followed the surgeon down a series of hallways, and it felt like hours and seconds all at once before he was standing behind a glass screen, staring at his daughter.

She was the tiniest baby he'd ever seen, covered in a strange coat of thin blonde hair. She was lying on her stomach in an incubator, with tubes hooked up to her. Her thumbs were in her mouth, and she looked to be asleep.

It was a strange feeling, twisted and bittersweet. This was his baby, his daughter. Any joy he felt came along with guilt, and that guilt came with more guilt-as if his baby girl deserved his affection, and Mary deserved his devastation, and he should only be able to feel one at a time.

He stared helplessly, feeling very lost. _Mary should be here._

A moment later, a clipboard was pushed into his hands. A birth certificate was held in place by the metal clip, and a pen was attached to the top.

And every disagreement over names that had taken place between John and his wife seemed so very inconsequential now. There was no question. He didn't even hesitate before scribbling out the name that Mary had wanted.

_Joan Camilla Winchester._

* * *

So that's the prologue. If you have the time, I'd love to know what you think!


	2. Bait and Switch

**Chapter One**

"I'm in misery where you can seem as old as your omens."

-The Mother We Share/Chvrches

**21 Years Later. Jericho, California.**

"_OPEN UP MY EAGER EYES CAUSE I'M MISTER BRIGHTSIDE_."

The window of Jace's truck was open, whipping her already perpetually messy hair every which way. Although her shirt said Led Zeppelin-a birthday gift from Dean, several years old-the car radio was set on a station dedicated to more recent hits, and the wind wasn't quite loud enough to mask Jace singing along, very much off-key.

She could appreciate the sentiment of the shirt-she was wearing it, after all. And she liked Led Zeppelin, if more out of nostalgia than personal taste. Dean tended to tease her when she listened to anything outside of his definition of quote-unquote "real music," around him. So she didn't.

But Dean wasn't here now. It was just her. Her father had sent her to interview a widower while he investigated a house across the river. But after stopping for food on the way back, she imagined John must be back at the motel by now, and so she allowed herself this moment of freedom. These drives kept her sane. As much as Jace adored her father, he could be smothering at times, and Dean, when he was around, was no better.

The music came to an abrupt stop as Jace cut the engine. The sole decoration in her car, some symbol that was meant to protect against the evil eye that hung from the rearview mirror, bounced around at the sudden stop. Jace reached up, grabbing it to stop it from swinging, and grabbed the food from the passenger seat. Then she hopped out of the car and headed for the motel room,

Despite the slowly dwindling sunlight outside, it was dim inside the musty room, with the blinds pulled shut, and when she stepped inside light was cast from the door across one of the beds, on which her father sat. He was staring at a closed manila folder, frowning, thoughtful. He looked intense, which was not unusual for him, but she didn't like it all the same.

"Daddy?" she asked cautiously. Sometimes, when her father got deep in thought like this, he didn't like being interrupted. He tried not to show it, but when he would turn to her and ask "Yes, Joan?" his irritation would be clear-clear in his tone, in his eyes, in the way he addressed her sans nickname. (He rarely called her Jace, but calling her Joan was even rarer-she was always Joanie, Pumpkin, Kiddo.)

And Jace would say "Nevermind" and slink off out of the way, unsure of when he would come out of his head again.

This time, though, he looked up and smiled. "Hey, Kiddo." He looked tired, more tired than usual, but there was something in his eyes, something that felt vaguely familiar, something she couldn't quite place.

She pushed her curiosity away reluctantly and returned her focus to the matter at hand. "You were right," she said. "The guy was cheating on his wife."

John just nodded. "Good job, Joanie." She beamed at the compliment and nodded in thanks. Then she pointed to the folder in his hands.

"Is that new stuff on Constance?"

He shook his head. "Just some stuff I'm looking into." She knew better than to push for more information, so she nodded. "Listen," he said. "Dean called. He's over in New Orleans-"

"I know where he is," she interrupted, sounding mildly offended, but he paid her no mind.

"-And he said he needed some back-up. I told him you'd be there asap."

Jace blinked. John never sent Jace on hunts without him. Never. Not that she hadn't hunted without him, but it had always been without his knowledge. He'd always been so adverse to the idea, but now…

She nodded quickly, grinning again despite herself. "Yes, Sir." She rarely called her father "sir," but the word slipped out and she didn't bother to pull it back. "I'll get packed."

"Good girl."

In the midst of her colliding nerves and excitement, it took her longer than usual to get packed, but fifteen minutes later she was throwing her duffel into the backseat of her truck. John seemed to hug her a little longer than usual before she left.

Later, she would regret not asking why.

* * *

**Two days later. New Orleans, Louisiana. **

Jace knocked three times on Dean's motel door. She had a key-had swiped it from the front desk, but boys were gross and she knew better to walk in on one unannounced.

It was a long moment after knocking before she registered the nature of the sounds coming from Dean's room. She considered going back to her car-there was a mattress under the camper shell, thin and uncomfortable as it was-before deciding against it. In her sleep-deprived state, it seemed very obvious that this was intentional.

It had occurred to her more than once during the drive that when Dean asked for back-up, he wasn't expecting John to send her, and probably wasn't thrilled at the arrangement. Dean didn't see his sister as being any more capable than their father did-maybe even less so. This kind of microaggression was exactly up Dean's alley, and ordinarily she would have let it go, but the drive had been long and unkind and _shit_, she was tired.

She knocked again, harder this time, and tried to sound distressed. "DEAN! HELP!"

The sounds stopped, and then she heard voices, too faint to make out through the motel walls, and some banging sounds-the kind made by hard footsteps on thin flooring-before the door opened. The door opened, and Dean was there-shirtless, disheveled, looking worried and irritated all at once, which was kind of how he always looked when Jace was involved.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Jace absently glanced behind him, into the room, and saw a redheaded woman tugging her clothes on. She turned her attention back to Dean quickly. "But it's nice to have your attention."

Dean's expression turned sour, but before he could say anything, the redhead-now fully clothed-pushed past the two of them. Jace turned back a little to watch her. The woman turned around, waving a wad of cash pointedly with one hand and flipping Dean off with the other. Then she got in her car and drove away.

Dean groaned and turned back to Jace. "You're bad for business, you know that?"

Jace didn't respond. "You gonna let me in?"

"She says, as if I have a choice," Dean muttered, but he stepped aside to let her in anyway. Jace rolled her eyes as her brother tugged his shirt on. The sheets on the bed, the only bed in the room, were still messy, so Jace leaned against the door, crossing her arms.

"Wow. You're welcome, by the way, for driving two days because you can't handle some hoodoo shit on your own."

"Watch your language," he said, more out of habit than anything. "And I didn't ask you to come. In fact, why _did _you come?"

Jace opened her mouth to protest, but before she could form words, she realized. She'd been set up. They both had been. She felt the color drain from her face. _What could be so bad that Dad would lie to get me out of the way?_

"Jace?" Dean was sounding worried again.

"...Dad said you asked for back-up."

Dean stared. Something clicked. And then, at once, they both lunged for the side table on which Dean's phone sat. Dean, who was closer, got to it first, and checked his messages while Jace stood on tip-toe beside him, trying to see the phone. The most recent message was from his father. He hit play.

"_Dean...something big is starting to...I need to try and figure out what's going on_." The message was staticky and broken. "_It may...be very careful, Dean. Watch out for J...we're all in danger._"

And then it ended.

"That was yesterday," Dean said, after a moment of silence. He turned to Jace. "When'd you last hear from him?"

"Not since I left a couple days ago. I called him from the road, but he didn't pick up." Pale and wide-eyed, she regretted not asking more questions before she'd left. She knew John wouldn't have answered them, he never did, but...maybe he would have. If she'd just asked. Which she didn't.

Dean swore profusely and ran a hand down his face.

"Play the message again," Jace said after a moment. He did.

"_Dean...something big is started to…I need to try and-_"

Jace grabbed Dean's arm, more tightly than necessary. "-There. You hear that?"

"Yeah. EVP."

"I'll get my laptop."

Stepping outside, she expected to feel a cool burst of night air, something that would clear her head, but the night was just as hot as the day here in New Orleans, and she was left with her thoughts, messy and clouded. She put herself on autopilot as she grabbed her laptop and reassured herself that everything would be fine, laying out a clear prediction as to what would happen, starting with hearing the EVP and ending with finding their father alive in maybe a couple of days. She allowed her emotions to flow through these channels, and only these channels, kept in check by faith. Faith was all she had.

Faith was all she had ever had.

She came inside and hooked Dean's phone up to the computer, setting both on the table. For once, Dean stepped back and let her work. Sam had taught her everything she knew about computers, and although she wasn't as proficient as he was, she worked well with computers. They were easy, once you knew how to talk to them. Unlike people. Sometimes she wondered if people were just messy and always would be, or if there was some language barrier that she had yet to cross.

Sure enough, the EVP tracker presented her with audio a minute later.

"_I can never...go...home…"_

"Never go home." Dean repeated, arms crossed, frowning in thought. He was bent over, leaning over her shoulder, watching the screen.

"He was hunting a woman in white," Jace supplied.

"I mean, yeah, I knew that." Dean straightened up, pacing a little. "But why'd he send you away?"

"And why'd he lie about it?" This wasn't the first time John had sent Jace away on a hunt that got too dangerous. But never without telling her why, and never over something like this. Women in White were basic. "...Dad's in trouble, isn't he?"

"Looks like."

"Call him. Maybe he'll pick up."

Dean didn't look any more convinced than Jace felt, but he called anyway. She heard their father's voicemail play through the speaker.

"Nada." Dean hung up the phone and pocketed it.

"So now what?" Dean would know what to do. He always did.

"Well, now we head over to where he was last. Swing by Stanford on the way." He started packing, tossing his things into a familiar duffel bag. "I'll take first shift driving-no offense, sis, but you look like Hell." He half-smiled at her, trying to look more confident than he felt.

"What about my-wait, Stanford? You wanna bring Sam into this?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, it's his dad too that's missing."

_Missing. _It was hard to hear out loud.

"I just-are you sure he'll wanna help?"

Dean zipped his duffel bag shut and slung it over his shoulder. "Yeah. I'm sure." But he didn't sound or look as sure as he wanted to be.

She decided not to question it for now.


	3. Don't You Forget About Me

A/N: This took 500000 years but in my defense I was busy switching medications and being angry about SPN and Agents of Shield.

There's a point in this chapter where it might seem like the dialogue is directly lifted from canon, but you probably should read through it anyway. It's got a lot of original stuff in it, and it has a lot of exposition on Jace's character and her relationship with her brothers. But that's just a recommendation-I'm not your mom. Do what you want. Don't let anyone tell you how to live your life.

Trigger warnings for this chapter are dissociation, internalized ableism (autism), and like...idk if I'd call it internalized biphobia but it's definitely repression so.

Anyway, if you have the time to review, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**Chapter Two**

_Go on, make it easy, say I never mattered. _

_-_Young Volcanoes/Fall Out Boy

By the time they arrived in Stanford, Jace was being held upright only by the copious amount of caffeine running through her veins. Dean had wanted her to ride in the Impala with her, insisting it would be faster, but Jace had refused to leave her car behind. The drive from Louisiana to California was two days long, but they'd made it in a day and a half by skipping the motel, stopping only for naps when absolutely necessary.

She almost didn't notice when Dean pulled over, but she caught it in time to park behind him by the sidewalk. She took a moment to stretch before catching up with Dean.

"You ready?" He asked.

She looked up at the tall, brick building. She had been here before, driven by with John to make sure Sam was okay, but had never actually gone inside or, you know, spoken to her brother. The thought was somewhat intimidating, and that was kind of sad, she thought, that she was scared to talk to her own family.

Nevertheless, she nodded, and followed Dean inside.

"Are you sure we need Sam for this?" she asked in a whisper.

"You heard dad, Jacey," Dean said. "We're _all_ in danger."

He wasn't wrong. Even if Sam wasn't strictly necessary for this...whatever this was, he needed to know about it. So she sighed. "Fine."

They were quiet until they reached Sam's door, at which point Dean paused.

"Hey. Look at me."

She turned to him. His tone gave her the expectation that he was about to give her some kind of pep talk or brotherly reassurance. Instead, he pulled one of the pins she used to keep her hair off her face, and then crouched down and turned his attention to the doorknob.

It took her a moment to recalibrate. "What are you doing?"

"The hell does it look like I'm doing?"

"Um...not knocking like a normal person would?"

"Sam won't open the door." He said it so matter-of-factly, so confidently, and her heart broke a little. She herself wasn't so sure-she would have liked to believe that Sam wasn't quite that bitter towards them-but she had never been so close to Sam as Dean had, she didn't know him like Dean did, and so she stayed quiet.

The door sprung open, and Dean stood up again. "I need a beer."

Jace rolled her eyes at this, but glanced around and headed towards what looked like the kitchen anyway. A beer didn't sound too terrible to her either.

There wasn't much in the fridge-some leftover pizza, hot pockets, and for some reason soy sauce-no beer, though, and she found her attention drifting. She glanced around. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and she could see the wooden kitchen table, and what looked like a picture hung on the wall, and it was all so very _domestic, _it was hard to reconcile with the brother she'd seen take down demons and werewolves during their adolescence.

And then suddenly there was a thud, and the sound of a scuffle, and before she even had time to process, she hurried back over to the living room to find that Dean had Sam pinned to the ground.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

Jace froze in the doorway, paralyzed by the sound of Sam's voice. That voice had once been as familiar to her as air, but now it sounded very foreign, and cold somehow, even though his tone-surprisingly-was not.

Dean seemed to have no such reservations, utterly comfortable with Sam, even after four years. A knot formed in her stomach, a familiar feeling from before Sam had left, from when they had been a family. The kind of feeling that springs up when you're alone.

"That's cause you're out of practice," Dean said.

More scuffle sounds, and then it was Sam who had Dean pinned.

"Or not." Dean sounded more amused than anything. "Get off me."

Sam rolled to his feet and helped Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I was looking for a beer."

"He doesn't have any," Jace announced. "Maybe it's a Stanford thing."

Sam whirled around. "Jace? You're here too?"

"...Nice to see you too?"

"Listen, we need to talk," Dean said, and Sam turned his attention back to him. Jace found herself feeling relieved and disappointed all at once.

"Phone?"

"Would you have answered?"

Before Sam could respond, the light turned on, and a female voice asked "Sam?"

The three of them turned in unison to the source of the voice. A tall woman was standing in the doorway, squinting in the light, clearly having just woken up. She was pretty, probably one of the prettiest girls Jace had ever seen, all long blonde hair and long tan legs that were very much uncovered. Jace swallowed hard and glanced away quickly. That jealous knot in her stomach was back.

"Jess, hey. Dean, Jace, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait, your brother Dean? And this is your sister?" Jace glanced up at this. She could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks, and looked down again, pocketing her hands.

Yeah. Jealous.

Footsteps. Then, "I love the Smurfs." Dean. "You know, I gotta tell you, you are way out of my brother's league."

"Dean." Jace looked up, finally, keeping her eyes on her oldest brother. "Don't be a creep."

"Let me just go put something on," Jess said.

"No, wouldn't dream of it."

"_Dean_," Jace warned again, louder this time. Dean ignored her. She glanced at Jess, who didn't look particularly intimidated or uncomfortable-just very _done_ with Dean. Jace liked that.

"Anyway," Dean said, going back over to Sam, "I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No." It was strange, but for a moment, Jace had forgotten Sam was there. His face was stony, and this time his voice really was cold. "No. Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Dean looked unruffled. "Okay," he said. "Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on the Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Jace glared at Sam, crossing her arms defensively, as if his comment on John had been directed towards her. Sam didn't seem to notice.

Dean was right. Nothing had changed.

"Let's try again," Dean said. "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Realization seemed to hit Sam. "Jess, excuse us," he murmured.

"Of course," Jess said quietly. Jace frowned slightly, mildly confused at the exchange, but said nothing as Sam made his way across the room and stepped out into the hall-just followed.

Sam checked the door, making sure that it was closed before turning to his siblings.

"So what makes you think he's missing?"

"Well, she's here, for one thing." Dean gestured to Jace. She waved awkwardly.

"So? The hunt got bad, he sent her away. He's done it before."

"But he's never lied about it. Look, he-" Jace sighed, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Come down with us," Dean said after a moment of waiting for Jace to continue. "We've got something to show you."

He turned and headed down the stairs. Jace followed, and Sam sighed and followed her.

"Come on," he said. "You can't just show up, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing us, Sammy," Dean said. "Dad's missing. We need you to help us find him."

"You remember the poltergeist from amherst? Or the banshee in Oakland? He's always missing, and he's always fine." There was an almost palpable bitterness in Sam's voice.

"Not like this. So are you coming or not?"

"I'm not."

"Why not?" Dean paused, turned around to face him.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."

"Yeah? When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

"Yeah, and as I recall, the nightmares stopped after that." Sam glanced back at his sister, as if in her long silence, he had forgotten she was there. She raised a brow at him pointedly.

"That's not the point," Sam says. "He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"And he did. He told you to be ready instead."

Sam didn't answer, just sighed. Not a tired or a sad sigh. Frustrated.

"Look," he said. His voice sounded far away, for some reason. "The way we grew up, after mom died, and the obsession to find the thing that killed her-"

This was where all awareness of the conversation was lost. This happened sometimes, in situations like this, with emotions running high. Even as they tried to keep it under wraps, the animosity between her brothers seemed overwhelming, and her mind shut it out without her consent.

She followed them in silence; she could hear their words, but they didn't sound like words, just sound. She tried to find something to pull her back-gripped the railing of the stairs tightly. As they headed outside, she tripped slightly. Dean grabbed her arm, steadying her, and it brought her back for a moment-

"...And that's why you ran away?"

"We're getting off topic." The words rushed out quickly, before they could keep talking and she slipped away again. She tried to sound stable, calm, in-control, but Sam seemed to pick up on her anxiety, because even though she could tell he still wanted to bicker, he set it aside.

"Alright," he said gently, "What was dad hunting?"

Jace took a breath; Dean took a moment, waiting for her to speak up, before speaking for her. "They were working a case down in Jericho. A woman in white."

"Dad told me Dean needed back-up," Jace jumped back in, determined not to fall into silence again. "Sent me to New Orleans-"

"Dean was working his own case?"

Dean stared. "I'm twenty-six, dude." He sounded mildly offended.

"And I get there, and I find out Dean never called. Dad lied to get me out of there."

"Okay, so that's...unusual. But it doesn't mean he's missing."

"Not done yet," Dean said. He opened the trunk of the impala, then the spare tire compartment. The arsenal was messy, cluttered; Jace made a mental note to organize it later. Dean rummaged around for a moment-"Let's see, where'd I put that thing-" and the novelty of waiting for him to remember started to wear off, so Jace pulled out the hand-held recorder from her pocket and handed it to him.

He shot her a look. She smiled innocently.

He turned back to Dean. "So. Somewhere between Jace taking off and showing up at my door, Dad left me this." He hit play.

"_Dean...something big is starting to...I need to try and figure out what's going on_…"

"You know there's EVP on that, right?"

"Not bad, Sammy." Dean grinned. "Kinda like riding a bike." Jace couldn't help but smile a little at that.

"Jacey ran it through a goldwave, and we got this." Jace stood a little taller at this. It wasn't even a compliment, just a statement of facts-but still.

Sam looked intent, focused as the EVP played. "Never go home," he murmured thoughtfully.

"You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Dean's tone was still casual, matter-of-fact, but Jace could tell he was feeling desperate. She wondered vaguely what had happened two years ago, what had broken the silence between her brothers, even temporarily.

Finally, Sam sighed. "Alright. I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just...wait here."

"What's Monday?"

"I have this...it's an interview."

"What, a job interview?" Dean scoffed. "Skip it."

"It's a law school interview. And it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law School?" Dean smirked. Sam narrowed his eyes.

"So we got a deal or not?"

Dean was silent.

"Yes, we have a deal," Jace said finally.

"No." Jace looked up at Dean, startled. "We-" he gestured to himself, and then Sam-"Have a deal. We, on the other hand-" and now he gestured to himself, Sam, and then Jace-"do not. You're not coming."

"What?!" Her voice was too loud for the time of night that it was, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. Maybe both. "You wouldn't even know he was missing if it wasn't for me!"

"Yeah, and you've been very helpful. And now Sam and I are gonna handle it, while you stay as far away from Jericho as possible." His nonchalant tone was insult to injury, and she found herself at a loss for words. She turned to Sam for defense, but he just shot her a sympathetic look and headed upstairs.

She shot another glance at Dean, who looked utterly unwavering, arms crossed and eyes challenging. And then took off after Sam, jogging to catch up.

"Don't let him do this!" she begged, following him up the stairs.

He sighed. "Look, dad didn't want you involved in this-"

"Since when have you give a rat's ass about what dad wants?"

Sam flinched slightly, and Jace felt a twinge of regret. "Since it has to do with keeping you safe! And watch your language." Jace scoffed slightly. He sounded just like John.

"So it's okay for you to risk your life, but not mine? What, do you think you're a better hunter than me or something?"

He sighed again. "Look, why don't you stay here, look after Jess? You know, just in case."

"Why would..." Jace paused as realization dawned on her. Their conversation from before made sense now. "She doesn't know," she said slowly.

"No," Sam said, shifting uncomfortably, "And she's not going to."

"Sam, that's a bad idea."

"Look, just-please don't tell her anything. Just stay here, alright? Besides, I think you'd really like her if you got to know her."

A blush crept onto her face again. "I'm not saying I wouldn't, I just-"

"Dad said we're all in danger, right? What if that includes her?" And for the first time, he seemed genuinely worried. Even if he wasn't aware of it, even if he thought he was just trying to keep Jace out of the way-

"Okay," Jace said finally. "I'll stay with her."

Sam smiled a little. "Thanks."

* * *

"But what about the interview?"

Sam was in a hurry, tossing clothes into a duffel bag. Early start, early return. Or something. He glanced up from his packing.

"I'll make the interview," he assured her. "This is only for a couple days. Listen, is it okay if my sister crashes her while I'm gone? Our dad's probably wrecked. She doesn't need to see him like that."

"I mean-yeah, of course she can stay, but Sam, slow down for a second. You're sure you're okay?" She caught his arm, turning him to face her, and studied him. He wondered, like he had wondered so many times before, if she could tell that he was lying to her.

"I'm fine." He smiled, and she let him go.

"Alright," she said. And he thought, this is too easy. She shouldn't let it drop so fast. But he couldn't worry too much about it right now.

"Hey. Look. Everything is gonna be okay, I promise." He was speaking to himself as much as to her. Then he dropped a kiss on her cheek and left the room.

"At least tell me where you're going!" she said, but he pretended not to hear.

He headed out into the living room, where Jace was leaning by the front door. She was doing that thing she always did, standing right next to the door with her arms crossed, like a bouncer or something. She'd done that for as long as he could remember.

Before he left, he hovered in the doorway and then, kind of impulsively, pulled her into a hug.

"I missed you, you know that?"

She didn't push him away, but she didn't answer either. Waited for him to withdraw on his own before saying "You never answered my question."

_Do you think you're a better hunter than me or something?_

"Jace…" It was all the answer she needed. She shook her head.

"Go find Dad," she said, in a tone so even she was kind of proud of it.

He smiled just before leaving-this sad, apologetic smile. She did not smile back.

The door clicked shut.

"So, um-" Jace jumped at the sound and turned around. Jess-now fully clothed-was standing just inside the room, by the hallway.

"Sorry," Jess said. "Didn't mean to startle you."

Jace shook her head. "It's fine."

"I just-I didn't get the chance to say this earlier, but it's nice to meet you."

"You, too." And it was, really, even if it was kind of sad, too. Sam had built a whole new life and Jess seemed to be central to it. Jace couldn't help but be curious.

She got the feeling that Jess was curious about her, too, which was fair.

"Can I get you anything? Soda, water?"

"Uh, no, that's okay. Actually, yeah, water would be nice."

Jess smiled. "Water it is," she said, and headed into the kitchen.

Jace took this opportunity to observe the apartment, or the living room, anyway. The place was old and just a few steps above decrepit-the paint was peeling from the walls, the carpet stuck up in the corners, and the floor squeaked as Jess left the room. Still, it had an open, homey vibe to it. There were pictures on the wall, just a few, of Sam-with Jess, and with other people that Jace had never met. He looked happy. Happier than she could remember him being.

"You know, you can sit down if you like." Jace jumped slightly and turned to see Jess holding two glasses. Jace nodded a little.

"Thanks."

After a moment of hesitation, she went over and took a seat on the couch. Jess joined her a moment later and handed her the glass.

"Thanks," Jace said again. Jess nodded. The silence was stifling, sucking the air out of the room. Jace sat the water down and started fidgeting with one of the many bracelets on her wrist. Jade and amethyst beads in an alternating pattern, with little symbols scratched onto them. The woman who'd sold it to her had sworn that they were Enochian, the language of angels. Jace wasn't so sure, but it was a comforting thought.

"You look like your mom," Jess said suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Sorry. It's just, Sam has this picture of your guys' parents. You remind me of her."

Jace smiled a little, getting the same strange, warm feeling she'd had when Dean had credited her with finding the ESP earlier. She'd seen pictures of her mother, too, but she'd never seen a resemblance, and aside from Dean, no one else had commented on it. Jace may have shared her hair and eye color with her mother, but not her features. Mary was pretty; Jace, in her own opinion, was not.

She didn't say any of this. Just smiled and said "Thanks."

"Of course."

For a moment, it seemed like the awkward silence was going to return, but then Jess spoke up again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh...sure." Jace tried to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

"What's your family like? Sam doesn't talk about his childhood a lot, so."

_Just-please don't tell her anything. _Sam's words echoed like chimes in her head and she ran through her childhood, trying to find something to say that would satisfy Jess's curiosity while protecting the truth.

It was a strange situation, one she had to maneuver carefully, because Jace didn't know what normal was. She never had. Her life wasn't normal and even within that context, she herself was not normal. Never had been.

"Well, we-we moved around a lot. Every couple months."

"I know that," Jess said, sounding mildly impatient.

Jace swallowed slightly. What was she supposed to say? Maybe she was coming at this from the wrong angle. Jess wasn't asking what her childhood was like, she was asking what Sam's childhood was like. She wanted more than what Sam had told her. But they were clearly close-they lived together. Hunting had made up such a big part of their childhood, and the parts that were untouched-Sam had probably told her those.

Or maybe not.

Maybe he'd kept some things to himself-out of bitterness, out of wanting to forget, forget the good between the bad. It was hard to hate something that had good in it-at least, it was for Jace. Maybe it was for Sam, too.

"They went on a donkey ride," she said finally. "Sam and Dean and my dad. Sam was like five. I was four and they wouldn't let me come-the Grand Canyon people, I mean. So I stayed with a family friend." Her nose wrinkled slightly at this-at both the memory of being left behind, and at the thought of said family friend.

Jess smiled a little. "That sounds sweet."

"You'll have to ask him about it. Although I'm not sure how much he remembers."

"He doesn't remember it but you do?"

"I have a strong long-term memory. It-" _It's an autism thing. _She shrugged. "My earliest memory is from when I was one."

"Really? What's the memory?"

_I was sitting on a motel bed, I reached for the remote on the dresser-I liked pressing the buttons. And I almost fell off and I was so so so so scared, but Dean saw and pulled me back up and I wouldn't let go of him and he didn't push me away. _

"I almost fell off a motel bed. Dean caught me."

"He sounds like a good brother."

"He is...mostly."

Jess smiled. "You know...I kinda know what it's like. Having brothers who don't treat you like an adult."

"Cousins. But we all kinda grew up together. They're infuriating sometimes."

Jace nodded, playing with one of her bracelets again. Square wooden beads with pictures of saints painted onto them. Truthfully, her brothers were less infuriating than they were hurtful. They said that anger was a secondary emotion, something that people used to hide more vulnerable emotions from themselves, or others. Like an iceberg, where only the very top, the anger, was visible, while everything else lie beneath the surface.

Some people seemed to have so much anger that if they really were icebergs, they'd be defying gravity, too top-heavy to float the way they did. Dean was like that. Jace was the opposite. She could never sustain anger very long, even if she tried. There was nothing to bury the hurt with, so she usually just tried her best to ignore it.

"How do you deal with them?" Jace asked, facing Jess for the first time.

Jess sighed. "Eventually...eventually you realize that sometimes it's okay to put yourself first. That if someone is angry at you, or disappointed, it doesn't always have to be your problem."

Something about that sounded...well, she wasn't sure how it made her feel, exactly, but it made her feel something, like something had lit up inside her.

It was quiet for a moment, but not nearly as awkward this time. Finally, Jess started to stand up. "So, I'm really sorry, I gotta catch some sleep, but-"

"I'm gonna go after them."

"Huh?" Jess's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Jace?" Absently, Jace noticed that there was no beat between "idea" and "Jace," no hesitation. Jess didn't stop to wonder if she was allowed to say Jace's name, or if that was too familiar or something, the way Jace usually did with new people.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I just, I gotta do this. But, um, I need you to promise me something."

"I-I'll try my best." Jess still seemed caught off-guard by this turn of events. Jace was too, if she was being honest with herself, which she rarely was. She stood up and slipped off her favorite bracelet-little wooden beads strung onto a leather cord, with one big lapiz lazuli bead and a silver charm hanging next to it-and held it out to Jess.

"I want you to wear this."

"I-Jace, it's pretty, but-"

"It's okay. It's not a gift. I'll come back for it. I just need you to borrow it and wear it." The bracelet, like all of Jace's jewelry, was aimed towards protection, and despite Jace's belief that Jess was firmly outside the monster collective radar, she felt bad for breaking her promise to Sam.

Jess watched her for a long moment, and finally took the bracelet. "Can I ask why?"

"Yeah. It, uh, it's for protection." She felt a blush creep back into her cheeks, she knew it must sound ridiculous.

"I need protection?" Jess smiled again, sounding amused.

"I think we all do." And really, given the world Jace knew they lived in, it wasn't a lie.

"Does crypticness run in your family?"

Jace smiled a little. "Probably."

Jess sighed. "Alright," she said, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist. "Well, tell Sam I love him."

"I'll let him know." Jace smiled and turned to leave, but Jess caught her arm.

"Wait."

She hesitated before turning; she could feel herself blushing again.

"Just...tell me where you're going? Where is he?"

"He's in Jericho. Just a few hours away." Jace smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "It'll be fine."


	4. Plucky Girl Detectives

A/N: Okay so this took a long time and I'm really sorry! I've made a lot of changes to the story-changed Grace's name to Jace, changed the story's title to Grace Under Pressure, switched back to past tense, made the prologue a separate chapter. I also planned on this chapter being longer-I ended up splitting it into two chapters. I didn't want to spend this long on the pilot, but shit happens I guess. There's other reasons for why this took so long but I won't go into them.

Anyway, I'm super sorry. On my profile is a link to an explanation for the name changes. Thanks for being patient with me, everyone, and if you have the time I'd love to hear your thoughts! I already have the next chapter scripted so hopefully it won't be that long. Also, I'd like to thank January Lily for making the new story cover! You should all go check out her sisfic, Us Against the World, it's fantastic!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"They all got the same heartbeat, and hers is falling behind."

-Cool Kids/Echosmith

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?"

_Ring ring._

Sam wanted to ignore the call at first. Honestly, he didn't really want to be distracted. He was set on finding dad and then getting back to school as soon as possible. But at the look the sheriff gave him, it occurred to him that he was breaking character-that as far as sheriff Jaffe knew, he could very well be ignoring Official Federal Marshal Business. John would never have slipped up like that. Sam really was out of practice.

He excused himself and stepped away to check his phone. It was Jess on the caller ID. A pang of worry hit him, and he quickly answered, catching the call on the last ring.

"Hey, Jess. Everything alright?"

"Why'd you lie?"

Sam blinked, taking this in. That was Jess; she didn't like games, didn't like beating around the bush. A knot of dread was quickly forming in his stomach. What had Jace told her? How _much_ had Jace told her?

"...What?"

"You said you were going to a cabin in the mountains, right?" There was a note of hope in Jess's voice. Like she was hoping he'd say "No, I said something similar, but totally different that totally lines up with whatever Jace told you." So she could say "Oh, I must have heard you wrong." Jess didn't shy away from conflict, but she didn't particularly like it, either.

In any case, Sam couldn't help but relax. This was certainly not the worst thing Jace could have let slip. "Oh. We're thinking maybe he's somewhere else now. We're looking for him."

Then something else occurred to him.

"Jess," he said suspiciously, "Where's Jace?"

Jess ignored his question. "She didn't know that," she pointed out. "You told me you were going to a cabin, and then you left, and then she told me you were going to Jericho." And then, more quietly, she added "Sam, just tell me what's going on. Please."

Sam sighed, running a hand down his face. As much as he lied to her, he didn't enjoy it. He never had. "Dean...traced the call from our dad. And it came from Jericho."

It took a long time for Jess to respond. "Fine." But it wasn't fine, and they both knew it.

Sam looked down, scuffing his shoe on the ground. "I'll make this up to you when I get home, okay?"

"Okay. Just...hurry back, okay? I'm worried about you."

Sam smiled sadly. "I will. I promise." After a beat, he added "Love you." It was like a question.

"I love you too."

He waited for Jess to hang up first, and almost pocketed his phone when she did, before realizing that Jess never answered his question. His worry switched from Jess to his sister, and he dialed Jace's number quickly, vaguely wondering if her number had changed.

It hadn't.

* * *

Jace vaguely considered dodging Sam's call. She'd known the call was coming, and she wasn't nervous. Just still annoyed with him. But she decided to be a grown-up and pick up anyway. She switched off the radio and picked up the phone. "Hello?" Her tone was mock-innocent.

"Where are you?" Sam asked.

"In my car. Why?" She knew that he knew what she'd done from his tone, and she wasn't trying to hide it. She just didn't want to make this conversation easy for him.

Sam sighed, sounding exasperated. "Why aren't you with Jess?"

"Because I can help. I know what dad was doing here. And he's my dad too."

Sam bit back a comment at that. No one was forgetting that John was her dad, too. Although John would never admit it, it was clear that Jace was his favorite. This didn't bother Sam, not like it bothered Dean, but Jace's lack of self-awareness could be frustrating.

"Jace, you need to turn your car around and go back to Jess. We can do this on our own."

"It'll go faster with me there. And we don't know where dad is, how much time we have."

He sighed again. "_Jace_." He knew he couldn't talk her out of it, not at this point. Jace was rarely this stubborn, but when she was, she was completely incorrigible. There was no middle ground.

"_Sam_," she repeated, mimicking his tone.

He shook his head. "Dean won't be happy."

"Dean is never happy. He's like a grumpy old man."

Sam couldn't help but smile at this. "How far out are you?"

"Like twenty minutes I think? I didn't leave that long after you guys did."

Sam shook his head, unsurprised. "Okay. Where do you wanna meet up?"

Jace smiled to herself. She'd known Sam would cave, but she didn't think it would be that easy. Sam had mellowed out at college, she realized. "Stagecoach motel. Room 106. That's where dad and I were staying."

"Alright." Sam sounded resigned. "I'll tell Dean. You better prepare yourself for whatever arguments he's gonna throw at you."

"I'm not afraid of Dean." This was not 100% true, actually, but that was not the point.

Sam chuckled. "I'm just stating the obvious. See you soon?"

"Okay. See you soon." As irritated with Sam as Jace was, she was excited to see him. She _missed_ him. And he'd changed. She wanted to know why. She suspected it had something to do with Jess's presence in his life, and maybe something to do with John's absence.

Maybe hers, too.

* * *

Dean walked up just as Sam hung up the phone. "Who was that?"

"Jace. She wants us to meet up at some motel." Sam's tone was neutral, betraying no feeling either way. Sam may not have been happy about Jace's presence in Jericho, but Dean and Jace's relationship was strained as it was. Sam had his suspicions as to why, but either way, he didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

Dean paused, his hand on the Impala's door handle. "Wait, she's here? In town?"

"About twenty minutes out."

"What the hell?" Dean didn't sound angry so much as aggressively annoyed. He got into the car, slamming the door afterwards. "D'you tell her to drive her ass back to Stanford?"

"I did," Sam said, getting into the passenger seat. "She didn't listen."

"Unbelievable," Dean muttered. "Where's she headed now?"

"Stagecoach motel. Apparently she and dad were staying there when he sent her away."

Dean grunted noncommittally. This was good information, but no way would he admit it.

The first thing Jace noticed when she got to the motel room was that the walls were bare. Gone were the various articles that had papered the walls. For a moment, she thought John must have taken them down before he left-but no. There they were, spread out over the bed she'd slept in just days ago. Her brothers stood over said bed, looking over the display; Sam had a few papers in hand and was flipping through them.

Sam was the first to notice her. He looked over, nodded in recognition, and then nudged Dean to get his attention. Apparently, Dean's anger had burned out in the last twenty minutes, because he hardly glanced at her. "You're not supposed to be here," he said, but his heart wasn't really in it. It was like he was saying it out of obligation.

Still, it was grating.

"Well, I am," Jace replied. "Any sign of him?"

Dean shook his head. "No," he said. "He hasn't been here for a few days." He pointed at a trash can. Looking over, Jace saw the burger she'd brought John half-eaten and moldy.

"He must've left right after you," Sam added.

"Left for where?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out."

Jace nodded a little and went over to look more closely. The papers on the bed were all recognizable-nothing new that she could see. "What are we thinking?"

"Don't know yet," Dean said.

"We're going through everything he had on the walls. Trying to figure out what he was thinking."

This seemed obvious to Jace, but she ignored it. "I could tell you that. It's mostly just stuff about the case." She picked up an article about Constance Welch. She'd printed it out herself at the library, less than a week ago; John respected technology, but from a distance. "Constance Welch. She's a woman in white. The story is that she killed herself after her kids accidentally drowned, but I talked to her husband, and he said he was cheating on her when she was alive."

"He said that?" Dean glanced at her.

"Implied," she said, waving a hand. "Whatever."

Dean brushed this off with a tt. Sam didn't reply at all. The rejection was almost palpable. She pursed her lips.

"Were you talking to the police earlier?"

This finally got a reaction from Sam. He glanced up at her. "What?"

"When we were on the phone. I heard Dean talking to someone. Sounded like a cop."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean looked up. "What do cops sound like."

"You know what they sound like. They just got that cop sound to their voice. Like...gravel, and cynicism."

She wasn't sure, but she could've sworn Dean almost smiled at that.

"We talked to a guy on the bridge, yeah," Dean said.

"There was another vic last night," Sam added. "Troy Squire."

"Huh. Women in white usually wait longer between victims. Constance has, up 'til now."

Dean shrugged. They'd barely looked at her through this conversation-just kept shuffling through the articles on the bed. The silence that fell was heavy, and kind of loud in it's own way. It felt like her ears were about to pop. Like there wasn't enough air in the room for her. Just them.

She ran a hand through her hair frustratedly. "I'm gonna go get food."

"Grab me a burger," Dean called after her. Her only answer was the door slamming behind her. She'd end up getting his burger anyway, though. She always did. Her anger always seemed to burn out just as quickly as it flared up. She shoved her hands into her pockets and took off down the sidewalk, ignoring her car. Hopefully the walk would calm her down.

There was a diner she'd seen on her way, just a couple blocks from the motel. That was her destination, but at the last intersection she turned. Ordering food when she was pissed off wasn't a good idea. Refusing to eat always felt like taking revenge, somehow; so did overeating until she threw up. No. She'd walk off the tension and then go get food.

On the next street, two girls were putting up flyers. They looked about sixteen, and despite the heat, they were wearing all black. Jace thought about walking by, but her curiosity got the best of her. She sped up a little until she reached the first flyer on the street.

A picture of a teenage boy was centered on the page. Above, it said MISSING in block letters; below, the name Troy Squire was printed, along with a number for the police department.

Jace turned and spotted the girls, standing just outside a cafe. She jogged to catch up. "Hey."

They turned to face her. Up close, she could see that their whole goth look didn't end with their clothes. They both had heavy eyeliner and dark lips.

Jace pointed at the flyer in one of the girl's hands. "You know this kid?"

The girl looked sort of suspicious, but kind of curious. Almost hopeful. "Yeah. I'm his girlfriend, Amy. This is Isabel." Isabel waved slightly.

"Oh, you're Amy!" Jace extended a hand. Playing characters was so easy for her. Playing herself was harder. "Hi. Sorry, I'm Jace. I'm Troy's cousin."

"He never mentioned you," Amy said. Less hopeful, more suspicious.

"Really? Because he talks about you _all the time_."

Amy seemed pacified by this, or at least willing to listen.

"So, um, have you guys heard anything about his disappearance?" She pocketed her hands and shifted, looking stressed and uncomfortable. This was easy, really. She was already stressed and uncomfortable pretty much all of the time anyway. It was like turning something inside out. Turning a weakness into a strength.

"No," Isabel spoke up. "My dad's the sheriff, but he doesn't talk to me about this stuff anymore, not after-"

Amy hit Isabel's arm, and she shut up quickly. Jace glanced between the girls before asking "Do...you wanna sit down?" She jerked a thumb at the restaurant. "Lunch is on me."

* * *

Lunch was actually on Priam Aframian, but Amy and Isabel didn't need to know that. Judging by the way they chose a booth right by the door, the way they sat shoulder to shoulder in the seat across from her, she could tell they didn't quite trust her yet. Which was probably a good thing.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy was saying. "He was driving home. He said he'd call right back, but he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?"

Both girls shook their heads. A silence fell then-not as consuming as the one from the motel room, but not comfortable, either. Then Jace noticed Amy's necklace. It was a pentagram, almost identical to the one hanging around Jace's neck. Amy's was a little bigger, a little newer, but still.

Jace smiled and held hers up. "We match."

Amy smiled back and looked down. "Troy gave it to me."

"Mostly to scare her parents-" Isabel added,

"-With all that devil stuff," Amy finished.

The way they finished each other's sentences made her smile. She'd always wondered what it would be like to have a female friend like that. She had Aiden, of course, but no real close female friends to speak of.

"It's actually the opposite," Jace said. "Early Christians used it as a symbol for the five wounds of Christ. Before that, the Sumerians used it-" she cut herself off, shaking her head. It was something she'd read about in one of Sam's books, the ones he'd left behind when he left for Stanford. John had wanted to pawn them, but Jace insisted on keeping them, partly out of a love for books and partly out of a love for Sam, and partly out of this feeling that intersected the two.

"It's a really powerful protection symbol," she finished awkwardly. "I mean, if you believe in that stuff."

Both girls shifted uncomfortably at this last line, and Jace recognized the significant look that passed between them.

"Do you?" Jace asked gently. "Believe in that stuff?"

There was another uncomfortable pause.

"I'm gonna go use the restroom," Amy said, standing up. She shot something that, to Jace, seemed like a warning look at Isabel before walking away.

"I think it's hard for her to talk about," Isabel said apologetically. "She's really wound up over Troy going missing."

Jace nodded. "Of course."

"There's this local legend," Isabel explained. "This girl got murdered out on Centennial, like, ages ago. And some people say she's still out there."

"What do you say?"

Isabel bit her lip. "I mean-people go missing on Centennial all the time."

"Including Troy."

Isabel nodded. "It's weird, you know?"

"It's definitely weird." _You have no idea,_ she thought. "So...this girl. Do you know how she died?"

"Well...some people think she was hit by her boyfriend's car. Other people think she got pushed off a bridge." She paused, and it took Jace a moment to realize that Isabel was waiting for her input. She got the sense that Isabel was used to being brushed off when she talked about this. Which Jace understood.

"What do you think happened?" Sometimes when she did this, she felt like a therapist. Asking leading questions, giving her own opinion as needed.

"I think it was the bridge," Isabel whispered.

"Why?"

Isabel studied her, like she was deciding whether to share this information. Despite her hesitance, she didn't seem ashamed. If anything, she gave off a sort of plucky girl detective vibe. Finally, she said "The last guy who went missing-Amy and I wanted to know what happened, but my dad wouldn't tell us anything. So we went to the police department, and I distracted him while Amy broke into the records room."

Jace raised a brow, biting back a smile. "Go on."

Isabel leaned forward. "The guy's car was on the bridge, but the body was in the water. And there were these ligature marks on his feet. Like something had dragged him down."

"Damn," Jace murmured. Isabel nodded.

"So then we snuck out the next night, and went to the bridge, and there were these two lights."

"Not like streetlights."

"No. They were just...floating, and moving, like they wanted to talk to us."

"Did you follow them?"

Isabel shook her head. "No. We ran like hell."

"Good."

Isabel tilted her head slightly. "Do you know what it means?"

Jace nodded a little. She didn't often reveal this much to witnesses-such as they were-but Isabel reminded her so very much of herself. She couldn't make herself shut this girl down.

"They're called will-o'-the-wisps. Don't follow them."

Isabel nodded solemnly, and Jace turned to look out the window. The wheels were turning in her head, slowed down by the memories she was trying to set aside. Something else she'd read in one of Sam's books.

Rusalka.

It took her a moment to realize Isabel had said something. She turned to face her. "I'm sorry?"

"Do you think Troy might still be alive?" Isabel asked hopefully.

Troy was most definitely not alive. Rusalka didn't take prisoners; they killed at first opportunity. So did weeping women. There was no way this ended with Troy surviving.

But she didn't say that.

"I hope so." She smiled.

* * *

Jace didn't knock before coming into the motel room. Her brothers were still going over the case-Sam was on the bed, clicking away at his laptop, while Dean flipped through more articles at the table. For a second, it seemed like she'd been sent back in time to four years ago, except that Sam was taller and his laptop was newer.

She set the food down on the table.

"It's not a weeping woman," she announced.

Sam looked up curiously; Dean was more interested in the food. "What took so long?" he asked.

Jace ignored him. "At least...I don't think it was. I think it was a rusalka."

"The hell's a rusalka?" Dean asked through a mouthful of food.

"It's a Russian water spirit," Jace said. "It's when a woman commits suicide by drowning because of an unhappy marriage."

"They drown men by dragging them into the water with their hair," Sam added.

"After seducing them."

"Right." Sam turned back to Jace. "What makes you think it's a rusalka?"

Having this much attention on her was oddly nerve-wracking for her. She tried not to stutter her way through the explanation of what had happened while she was gone. Tried to sound as confident as she'd felt before she walked in the door.

Dean shook his head. "Dad said it was a weeping woman. No offense, kid, but I think he'd know what he's talking about."

Jace ran a hand through her hair. "He does, usually. But he was...off, those last couple days. Distracted. He could've missed something."

"Look," Sam said. "We're gonna go to the bridge tonight. Let's see what we can see. Maybe we'll find more proof."

Even so, he was humoring her, and Jace knew it. Dean wasn't even trying to hide his skepticism; it was written all over his face.

But she didn't argue.

"Fine," she sighed. "Whatever. I'm gonna take a nap. I feel like I've been awake for like three days."

"Not actually that far off the mark," Dean commented. "Get some sleep, kid."

Jace nodded a little and collapsed onto the free bed. As stressed as she was-over John's disappearance, over her brothers' doubt, she didn't know if she'd be able to sleep at all. But after sleeping only a collective six hours since John had gone missing, the hard motel mattress seemed like memory foam, and the sheets still smelled like her dad, like leather and gunpowder and graveyard dirt. Maybe it should've been worrying, but it wasn't. It was comforting, and she quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	5. Thrilling Heroics

A/N: Hello I am here. I don't know why this took so long. Don't even have an excuse. Sorry.

Trigger warning in this chapter for vaguely sexualized threats near the end.

* * *

I'm not their hero, but that doesn't mean that I wasn't brave.

-I'm Not Your Hero/Tegan and Sara

"So here's where Constance took the swan dive."

Jace leaned forward, crossing her arms on the bridge railing. Her back was to her brothers as her attention turned to the river instead. She'd only seen will-o-the-wisps once before, as a child, but she could remember what they looked like, what they _felt_ like. It wasn't something you forgot easily.

"You think Dad would've been here?" she heard Sam ask.

Her first thought was yes, he had been, she'd been there too-but no. Sam meant after she'd left.

She'd been trying not to think about that-about John sending her away under false pretenses. She couldn't say it didn't hurt-well, she could, and she would, to herself and anyone who asked-but it wouldn't be true, anyway. Still, for now, she focused on the lights. Or lack thereof, so far.

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him."

_But what story? _The woman in white? The rusalka? Something else? _He knew something I didn't. _Otherwise, he wouldn't have lied about sending her away.

Really, going through his stuff wasn't a bad idea. Maybe she'd overreacted, earlier that day at the motel. It was just...the vibe they gave off. It wasn't malicious or even annoyed. Just...indifferent. Like they had their own sphere and she was on the outside. This was not unusual, it just felt more...intense this time. Maybe she'd just forgotten how it felt after Sam's long absence. Or maybe she'd just gotten more sensitive.

The problem was that there was always a chance that that wall would be up between Jace and her brothers. But when she tried to put up her own walls, they would fall every time.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe if she knew how to shut people out, it wouldn't matter so much when people did it to her. Hmm.

"Monday. Right. The interview."

She could hear the tension in Dean's voice. Not good. Dean had never been good at controlling his anger. He'd never hurt her, or Sam, not physically anyway. But his anger tended to decimate the emotional climate around him, leaving nothing in it's wake for awhile, until it'd had time to grow back. It was almost volcanic.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

His tone was even, but it was dripping with venom, with bitterness, and was that...jealousy?

"Maybe," Sam said defensively. "Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?"

Dean was always angry, even when he wasn't. Like a volcano. The pressure was always there, and yet when it manifested, it seemed very sudden.

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

Jace dug her nails into her palms, trying to stay grounded. Sam was starting to get upset too, she could tell, and the tension was overwhelming. At times like this, it seemed like she felt other people's emotions stronger than they did-stronger than her own, certainly. She swallowed hard, trying to shut them out.

"...Sooner or later, you're gonna have to accept who you really are."

_Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup_

"...If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what mom looks like."

"Yeah, and if some other hunter had caught the son of a bitch, _you would._" Dean sounded openly angry, finally. Angrier than he had throughout the conversation. Angrier than she could remember him being in a long time and she spoke without meaning to.

"It doesn't matter," she said. She turned around and looked over at Dean, but didn't really see him, not quite. Things were..blurry. She regretted saying it as soon as she did, but there was no taking it back.

"Mom's gone," she continued, helplessly. "And she isn't coming back."

Dean took a step towards her. Sam stepped between them. And things stayed like that for a long moment. Dean didn't move towards her again, but he was still pissed, she could tell. Dean never liked talking about Mary, and he especially never seemed to like it when Jace talked about Mary. Neither Sam nor John had ever seemed to notice, though.

"Don't talk about her like that," Dean growled finally. She just nodded. Usually she didn't talk about her mom at all. Maybe because she felt she didn't deserve to.

"Uhh...guys?"

In unison, Dean and Jace turned to Sam, and then followed his gaze to the other side of the bridge. A dark-haired woman in a white dress was teetering on the very edge. Before any of them could move, she had taken a step, falling out of sight.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked.

As if in response, the Impala's engine suddenly roared to life, its headlights switching on.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked. Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket in response.

The car jerked into motion finally, and they ran. Any thoughts of the previous conflict had disappeared. It was survival mode now.

She was almost grateful for it.

* * *

The first thing Dean did when they got back to the motel was shower. While escaping Dean's possessed car, they'd had to jump over the edge of the bridge. Sam and Jace had been lucky enough to catch the beams, but Dean had landed directly in the river and had emerged covered in mud and smelling like shit, but alive.

And so Dean headed for the bathroom. No mention of what had happened on the bridge, before Constance had shown up-just "I'm gonna clean up."

Jace considered apologizing, but decided against it. What was there to say? "I'm sorry for what I said on the bridge" wasn't going to cut it, because that's not what this was about, not really. She decided to leave this particular can of worms untouched for now.

She perched on the edge of one of the beds, flinching slightly when Dean slammed the door behind him. She knew he wasn't really mad anymore-he just slammed doors sometimes without thinking. She knew that, but she was still a little uptight. She looked over at Sam, who was leaning against the table, his hands resting on the edges.

"Don't worry about him," he said, smiling a little. "He'll get over it."

Jace half-smiled and looked down. Of course he would. Dean always got over it, but the place those outbursts came from never left. There was always that underlying tension between them. He always protected her, but he always kept her at arms length. She knew Dean loved her, but...sometimes she thought he might hate her a little, too.

For a second, she considered bringing this up to Sam-but what could he say, really? So she just nodded and looked up again. "Yeah. You're right. Thanks."

She got the feeling that he could tell she was still upset over it, but he didn't press the issue, choosing to change the subject instead. He turned his attention to the table, which was covered with the clippings from the walls, and pulled out a chair to sit down. "So...any thoughts about what happened with the car?"

Jace looked out the window for a moment-not ignoring him, just pulling her thoughts together. "I think...I think she must be seriously pissed off to be able to take control of a car. And I think it's weird that on the tape, she said she could never go home, but…" she trailed off lost in her own thoughts. She'd sounded forlorn when she said she could never go home, and yet she'd tried to kill the people trying to put her to rest. What was…

Her eyes snapped to Sam suddenly. "I think she's possessive of the river. Territorial."

"Why would she be possessive of the river, though?" Sam asked. He didn't sound skeptical, though. He leaned forward a little-he was listening. It had been like that before, before Sam left for Stanford. Bouncing ideas off each other until the pieces came together. She missed it.

Jace leaned back, propping herself up on her palms. "Because that's how water spirits are," she said. There was no smugness in her voice, just excitement as her thoughts started connecting like magnets.

Sam's eyebrows rose. He didn't look completely sold, but he didn't seem dismissive either. Maybe it was her good mood, but she couldn't blame him for not being completely on board. After all, John was rarely wrong about identifying monsters. And Sam hadn't seen John during those last few days, didn't know how distracted he was.

"Did you see any lights on the bridge?"

Jace shook her head. "No, but I might have if we've stayed." Rusalka were often accompanied by will-o-the-wisps. Little lights in the darkness representing the soul of the woman's child-or children, in this case. Sometimes they liked to ask for help. Other times, they liked leading people to their deaths. Or. Trying to, anyway.

Sam still looked like he was on the fence. She decided to keep pushing.

"We should go talk to that guy. Constance's husband. Maybe there's something we're missing." She hopped to her feet. "C'mon."

Sam shook his head. "I already swung by and talked to him earlier. We shouldn't see him again this soon-even if we can get more out of him, he'll be suspicious."

Jace paused and turned to him. She tried to hold onto her upbeat mood, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"When was that?"

"When you were sleeping yesterday."

Jace bit the inside of her cheek hard and pocketed her hands. "So...was it because of me floating the rusalka idea? Or had you already planned on going before I pitched that?" It was hard to keep eye contact, to keep her voice level and not sound like she was dreading his answer.

Sam watched her for a moment, like he could tell what she was feeling but he wasn't sure why. "I had already planned on going."

Jace nodded. Her mood crashed; their rapport disappeared. "Oh. Okay. So. Good. You've got it covered, then." She smiled. "I'm. I'm gonna go back to Stanford. See how Jess is doing. Okay?" She said it before she thought it. Her hurt had taken a backseat to a temporary numbness whose primary function was to get her out. Out of the room, out of this situation.

Sam frowned a little, watching her. "I...okay. Alright."

Jace picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Jace."

She looked over at the sound of her name, looking curious. "Hm?"

Sam frowned more, clearly worried. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Jace nodded a little and smiled again. It wasn't forced, exactly. Just...empty. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...keep me posted. I'll have my phone on."

Sam nodded. "I will. I promise." He still looked worried, but he didn't force the issue. Her staying with Jess was what he'd wanted in the beginning, anyway.

Jace nodded, still smiling that same vapid smile. "Good." She headed for the door. Her footsteps were just a little faster than normal, and she didn't stop to hug him or anything on her way out. Those were the only signs she gave that something was wrong, but Sam picked up on them anyway.

"-Jace."

She turned with her hand on the doorknob. "Mm?"

He watched her a moment. Finally, he said "I love you, okay? Be careful."

She knew he was trying to help, but somehow it made it worse. Because Sam wasn't intentionally trying to exclude her. He just set her aside as a matter of course. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it; it just came naturally to him.

And that hurt so much more than Dean's aggression, passive or otherwise.

She nodded a little. "I will. I love you too."

And then she was gone.

* * *

"_Hello, you've reached the First Aid hotline. All one of our operators are busy at the moment. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you shortly._"

_Beep. _

Jace shook her head, smiling a little despite herself. She was still moody over what had happened in Jericho, but the sound of her best friend's voice mellowed her out a little.

"First aid," she muttered. "Unbelievable." The answering machine had picked this up, no doubt, but she wasn't overly concerned. Aiden's jokes were usually made to garner reactions like hers, anyway. "Hey, Aiden. It's Jace. I dunno what you're up to, but my dad's kind of...missing." She glanced around the street, looking for a place to pull over and park.

Although it had seemed very imposing at night, Stanford felt warm and almost idyllic in the evening twilight. She could see why Sam liked it so much.

"Anyway, I was hoping you could help me look for him. Sam and Dean are…" she trailed off, unsure of how or whether to explain what had happened, why she'd left them. The whole ordeal had been humiliating enough-she didn't want to relive it. And anyway, she wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't in the wrong, that she wasn't just being a brat.

As she pulled over and parked, she decided not to go into it. Aiden was already familiar with her strained relationship with her brothers, anyway. He'd witnessed it first hand-hell, he'd watched it develop over the years, from the time he was six and Jace was five. He could fill in the blanks.

"Anyway, just call me when you…" she trailed off again, looking up at Sam's apartment. She counted the floors and windows quickly. Yes, the window that was current spewing out thick gray smoke was definitely Sam's.

"Gotta go," she said, and hung up the phone. There was a knife in her boot, but she knew, somehow, that it wouldn't be enough. She fumbled to open the glove compartment and grabbed her gun. Her gun, and a little something extra.

Then she jumped out of her car and ran upstairs, taking them two at a time. She tucked her gun into her jeans and strapped on her favorite secret weapon. Ran over everything that could possibly be in their apartment, and what to do about it.

Smoke. Fire. Maybe this was whatever killed their mother. Why was this happening now, when it was just her? Sam was right. She should have stayed with Jess. Maybe her presence would have been enough to keep...whatever this is at bay.

Then again, it had already tried to kill her once.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

She reached the landing and threw the door open-it was unlocked, thankfully-and called out Jess's name.

"I'm in here!" Jess coughed. Jace followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen, where Jess was...fine. She had oven mitts on, waving smoke out of her face. The oven door was open. So that's where the smoke was coming from. The oven. Jace could vaguely make out a tray of what may have been intended to be cookies.

The whole situation was so mundane, honestly, and she still had adrenaline pumping through her veins, and the resulting feeling could reasonably be construed as culture shock. She tugged the right sleeve of her jacket down, covering her wrist. Her bracelets were pushed up to her forearm, uncomfortable tight. But she'd handle that later.

Jess stepped back from the oven into the entryway, and Jace followed suit.

"Sorry," Jess said. "You're back early." She seemed to be in a good mood, despite her kitchen falling apart.

Jace nodded, pocketing her hands. "Yeah, I, uh...I'm actually-I mean, Sam and Dean aren't here. They're still in Jericho. I'm gonna crash with a friend for awhile."

Jess's smile faded a little, and it occurred to Jace that her good mood might've been because she thought Sam was back. She ducked her head. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I-"

"Jess?" A deep voice called out. Jace looked up. She recognized the boy's face from the pictures on the wall-blue-black hair, brown eyes, olive skin with freckles. He was a lot thinner than he was in the pictures, though, and his eyes, so warm in the photographs, were bloodshot and tired. He smelled like alcohol and weed.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's okay. Just something wrong with the oven. Uh, Jace, this is Adrian. Adrian, this is Jace-Sam's sister."

Adrian looked at Jace like she'd appeared out of nowhere, like he hadn't even noticed her until now. Then he nodded. "Jace. Cool." He extended a hand and she took it, but instead of shaking it, he pulled her into one of those weird bro-hugs that boys did.

All of this were things that Jace would ordinarily take in stride, but something about Adrian rubbed her the wrong way-she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She pulled away from the hug, maybe a moment too soon, and nodded. "Yeah. Nice to meet you."

Jess took her oven mitts off, and Jace was reminded of why she came here in the first place. The bracelet. Before she could bring it up, though, Jess was halfway to the door. "I gotta go talk to the landlord about the oven," she said. "I'll be back in just a sec."

The door opened. Light from outside filtered in, catching on Jess's hair, and then she was gone, and the door shut again, and Jace realized how dim it was in the apartment. She just hadn't noticed before.

She glanced at Adrian. She wanted to say something to him, but she wasn't quite sure what. Granted, she never really was, but it felt like the wheels that turned when she was searching for words had frozen solid. So she just nodded and headed into the living room.

She looked at the pictures on the wall again. It was a wonder she recognized Adrian's face at all, really. The boy in the pictures looked so very warm and alive, and the boy in the hallway looked like he was being held together by duct tape and safety pins, metaphorically speaking.

"_Tsk, tsk_."

When Jace looked over at him, he was different. Something in his posture-he was standing taller, more confident. More threatening. She turned, facing him with her body as well as her face. Planted her feet and wondered if she looked as tense as she was. Probably.

"You weren't supposed to be here, little Winchester," Adrian said. "You didn't have to be a part of this."

"And what is this, exactly?" she challenged.

His eyes flashed black. "Haven't you guessed?"

Jace reached for her gun, but Adrian was faster. He threw out a hand and suddenly she was thrown against the wall, a few feet off the ground.

"But since you're here," he said, "I think I'll have some fun with you."

She didn't answer. She couldn't move, but she'd been there before and she knew that sometimes, if you try very hard, you can move your extremities. And if you're very very lucky, it could be enough.

"Sam doesn't talk about you a lot," Adrian said. He approached her with slow, measured steps. "Not anymore." Another time and place and his words might have hurt-maybe they would, after this was over, but just then she was focused on something else.

"Now, me, I can't see why," Adrian continued. He was so close. He was trying to intimidate her. "I think you grew up real nice."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked. There was a familiarity to his voice, to his words that bothered her, but she set it aside for now. _If she could just move her fingers_...

"If it were me? I don't think I could've stayed away."

She flexed her middle finger and hit the trigger on her palm.

The Palo Alto arrow, carved in miniature to fit her wrist-held crossbow, hit Adrian in the thigh. It didn't do much damage, but it was enough to distract him. Jace fell to her feet, whipped out her gun before he could stop her, and started shooting.

Guns had never been her forte, but she was decent enough. She tried to avoid hitting anything vital-there was still a guy in there, probably. Maybe. Hopefully. She really didn't want to have to bury another dead demon victim.

The salt rounds slowed Adrian down, but they didn't stop him. She managed to get around him, trying to keep from being cornered again. He whirled around. His eyes were pure black again, but if they weren't, she imagined she'd see hellfire in them. He was seriously pissed off.

She smirked.

"You little bitch," he hissed. He reached out a hand, and for a split second, Jace could feel her throat tightening-

And then the door opened.

"Jess!" Jace shouted, while Adrian was too distracted to choke her. "Run!"

But it was too late. "Jess!' Adrian said. He was smiling like the guy in the center of the ring at a circus, like he was hosting some kind of party. "I was wondering when you'd get back."

Adrian had her pinned to the ceiling before Jess had the chance to respond.

Jace shot him again.

Jess was screaming, Adrian was laughing, and she was almost out of bullets. She glanced around the room. There had to be something. Sam wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the apartment completely unguarded for four years, right? Right-

Right there.

There was a piece of carpet sticking up in the corner in a way that it shouldn't. There were a lot of reasons it could be, but in the absence of any other options, she decided to take a chance.

"Sam, don't drop the ball on this," she muttered.

Adrian reaches out to use his telekinesis on her again, but she shot him one last time and dodges into the corner.

He stalked over to her. He didn't draw it out like last time. Now he was pissed. His eyes were black, but if they hadn't been, she imagined she'd see hellfire in them. He was so close, almost in front of her face, and then-

He looked down. Then up again.

And she breathed again.

"_Exorciamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…_"

Adrian screamed. It was this kind of primal scream that she had never heard any human make. Only demons. She asked Dean once if he noticed it, too. But he said demonic screams sounded normal to him. So she was probably making it up.

"_Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio…_"

"You little bitch," Adrian hissed. Jace glanced up at the ceiling. Jess was still there. Still struggling, so she was alive. Good. The coffee table was directly under her, which was unfortunate. But it wouldn't take too much luck for Jess to survive this.

"_Infenalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio etc secta diabolica…_"

"I'm going to tear you apart piece by piece," Adrian snarled. "I'm going to make you bleed from every single orifice."

"_Vade, Satana, inventor en magister, omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis…_"

"I'm going to make you scream. I'm going to tear away any semblance of dignity you ever thought you had."

Jace ignored him. Her words sped up.

"_Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura…_"

As a kid, Jace had memorized the exorcism by putting it to the tune of the theme song to her favorite show. She didn't need to do that anymore, but she could still remember the tune.

"I'm going to make you wish you'd died in that hospital."

She paused for only a second, less than a second, before continuing.

"_Benedictus deus. Gloria patri._"

Adrian's head fell back, and black smoke spewed from his mouth. Watching this, Jace felt like she could feel the hatred and spite radiating off the black cloud. But that was probably all in her head, too.

Finally, the smoke disappeared. Adrian collapsed. Jess fell.

Jace hurried over; she was only halfway there when Jess looked up. There was a gash in her arm where a glass on the table broke. She was probably bruised all over. But she was alive.

Jess looked up at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, but her voice was-well, not steady, exactly, but purposeful.

"Call 911," she said.

Jace pulled out her phone and did as she was told, making up a quick lie to the operator. Just as she finished the call, Jess brushed past her, hurrying to the kitchen. Jace glanced back to see Adrian-the real Adrian-sitting up against the wall, looking pale and traumatized. The full force of what had just happened washed over her all of a sudden.

Jace dialed the next number without thinking.

"Jace, hey," Sam said. "I was just about to call you. We're on our way back to Stanford now."

It took Jace a long moment to find the words.

"Jace? Are you o-"

"Drive faster."


	6. Left Behind

**A/N:** I don't even have an excuse. This update is late because of who I am as a person, honestly.

Anyway, for those of you who don't follow the blog (you totally should; we have a Fun Time over on joancamilla dot tumblr dot com), you should know that between last chapter and this one, I changed Jace's faceclaim twice-once to Yael Grobglas, and then again to Leven Rambin. I wanna thank everyone for being patient with me, and especially January Lily, who keeps making me beautiful edits / manips only for me to change Jace's fc. I also wanna thank her for helping me edit this chapter and encouraging me. Everyone should go read her fanfics, they are AMAZING.

And also, I wanna thank prettypanda117, who gave me permission to use her journal-entry-as-exposition should all read her fanfics, too, they are FANTASTIC.

And lastly, I want to thank literally everyone who puts up with my excruciatingly slow updates and my indecisiveness and my demands for attention despite this.

* * *

_ I think I'm finally scared now_

_You think I'm weak, I think you're wrong_

**-If You're Gone/Matchbox 20**

_11/2/2005_

_1519 hrs. _

_Updates:_

_10/25: Dad and I arrived in Jericho for a hunt. _

_10/27: Dad sent me to New Orleans to help Dean with a hunt. __Should have known something was wrong. _

_10/29: I got to N.O. Dean wasn't expecting me. Dad wouldn't pick up his phone. Still won't. Left a message on Dean's phone though. It was scratchy and stuff but what I can remember was:_

"_Dean...something starting...I need to figure out what's going on...be careful...watch out for Jace...we're all in danger."_

_Put it through EVP. Got a woman's voice saying "I can never go home."_

_Dean suggested we go pick up Sam, since Dad said we're all in danger. _

_11/1: Dean and I got to Stanford and convinced Sam to come to Jericho to find Dad. __They told me I couldn't come so I waited for them to leave and followed them._

_11/2: I left Jericho early and came back to Stanford to pick up something I left at Sam's apartment. Met Sam's friend Adrian who turned out to be a demon. He tried to kill me and Jess (Sam's girlfriend.) I exorcised him but I had to shoot him a couple times. _

_Adrian-the real Adrian-is still alive though. The doctors think he'll be okay. They don't know what actually happened though. Jess made up a story about a burglary. Which is not the one I would've gone with because now police are in her apartment, but she's new at this. Sam didn't tell her about demons or anything. __Which given recent events was a bad call._

_Anyway, we're at the hospital now. They won't let us see Adrian yet but he probably does not want to see me anyway given that I shot him multiple times a few hours ago. _

_Qs:_

_1\. Da_

"Jace?"

Jace looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. Dean. He and Sam had just walked through the door. Sam was making a beeline for Jess, which was reasonable; he had a lot of explaining to do. Dean, though, was headed straight for her. He had his "worried and annoyed" face on again. Nice to know that some things hadn't changed.

"You okay, kid?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I promise."

"You sure? Sam said it was a demon. Did you-"

"I exorcised him before he could do too much damage." He seemed to relax a little, and-was that a glint of pride in his eyes?

"Jess got the brunt of it," she added. Actually, Adrian had. But she didn't feel like going into that.

Dean nodded, seeming assured, and then hit the back of her head lightly. "What were you thinking, running off like that?!" Time for the mad part.

"You wanted me to stay at Stanford in the first place!" Jace said indignantly. "I was literally exactly where you wanted me to be."

Dean did that grumbling thing he did when he knew she was right but didn't want to admit it, and then sat down next to her.

Jace opened her journal again, but stopped when she heard him speak again.

"Dad wasn't in Jericho."

She looked up at him. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He left his journal."

"He never leaves that behind."

"Yeah, well." Dean shrugged. "He left some coordinates. 35-111. Sam says it's some Nowhere town in Colorado."

Jace closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The path in her mind shifted; plans had changed.

"_Sam and I,_" Dean said pointedly, "leave as soon as he's sure his buddy's okay."

"And I'm staying here?"

"Of course your are," Dean said, as if it should be obvious.

"That's bullshit!" Jace dug her nails into her knees to keep from jumping out of her seat.

"Hey, watch your language!" Dean flicked her ear. "Someone's gotta stay here and look out for Jess and...what's his face." He waved a hand.

"ADRIAN!" It came out louder and angrier than she intended, but she ignored the stares it garnered, although she did lower her voice. "Why can't _you_ stay?"

"Because dad left the coordinates for _me_," Dean snapped.

"Okay, then why can't Sam stay?" She knew how bratty she sounded, but she couldn't bring herself to care just then. All she felt was panic, closing in on her; the fear that her father's disappearance had brought was finally hitting her full force, and the thought of sitting still, of not looking for him, was drowning her in it.

"Because...because he's older!"

"So what? _He's_ not the one who's been hunting for the last four years-in fact, _you're_ not the one who spent the last four years hunting with _dad_, either."

She regretted the words almost before she said them. This was Off the Table stuff, ground too fragile to tread lightly upon. Ground you didn't tread at all.

Dean's face darkened. "Yeah, well, you were wrong. About the rusalka. It was a woman in white, so...whatever it is Dad tried to teach you, you clearly didn't learn. And that's why you're staying."

It was a struggle to hold onto her anger long enough to say "This conversation isn't over," get up, and walk away, but somehow she managed it. As soon as she'd stormed outside, however, the pressure behind her eyes burst and the tears started falling.

She leaned against the outer wall of the hospital and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to pull herself together. The bricks were still warm from high noon, but the afternoon air was perfect, just slightly breezy. She focused on those sensations and kept breathing. In and out, in and out, until finally her thoughts stopped spinning and she could focus on one.

How was she going to convince her brothers to let her join them? It wasn't like she could just tail them all the way to wherever they were going. She couldn't sneak around them forever.

But was it worth it? Should she? Her father, apparently, hadn't wanted her to come along, anyway, and this was starting to seem bigger than it had when it started. Maybe John knew something she didn't. Maybe she should stay.

And besides-

"Hey."

Sam. She wiped her eyes quickly and looked over at him, standing there by the hospital doors. "Hey."

Sam walked over to her and sat on the bench across from her, facing her. "You okay?" His eyes were worried, but his tone was light. Trying not to pressure her to talk, she guessed.

"I'm fine." It was obviously a lie, but thankfully, Sam didn't call her on it. Unfortunately, that allowed for an awkward silence to fall for a moment.

Then she spoke again. "What did you want to tell me on the phone?"

"What?"

Jace frowned at this. She remembered Sam saying he'd been about to call her-he'd said that, right? When she called him after Adrian was exorcised.

Jace had a tendency to remember things that had never happened, things people never said. It didn't happen enough to impair her, just kind of made her feel stupid sometimes, but it still worried-

"Oh, right."

Jace breathed again.

"I just wanted to apologize for the motel." He sounded honest. "I didn't mean to make you feel...insignificant, or anything."

"No, it's fine," Jace said automatically. "I overreacted. Can I ask you something, though?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Dean said that it wasn't a rusalka, it was a woman in white. Was it?"

"Oh." Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, it was. Sorry." Again, he sounded genuine.

Jace shrugged. "You caught the bad guy. That's all that matters."

Sam nodded. "So I guess Dean filled you in on Dad?"

Jace nodded. "Yeah." She ran a hand through her hair frustratedly. "Look...keep me posted, okay? Call me when you find him."

Sam blinked, clearly surprised she wasn't fighting harder. She was too, a little. "So...you're staying?"

Jace sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Sam studied her for another moment. "Thanks," he said finally. "For...staying. With them." He nodded to the hospital-indicating Jess and Adrian-and then paused. "You are staying with them, right?"

She shrugged. "Someone has to, I guess."

Sam smiled slightly. "Thanks. For doing that. It means a lot."

Jace just nodded. "I'm gonna go back inside."

Sam stood up. "Yeah, I should probably go find Jess."

Jace smiled a tiny bit. "How pissed was she?"

"How pissed would _you_ be?" His tone was level, casual, but she could tell he felt guiltier than he was letting on. This was not altogether unwarranted, in her opinion, but she kept that to herself.

"Good point."

Jace pocketed her hands as they walked inside. Sam started to go right, heading in the direction Jess had gone, but Jace grabbed his sleeve, stopping him, and gestured to the front desk, where Jess was talking to a nurse.

A moment later, the nurse turned and left, and Jess spotted them. She headed over.

"Adrian's awake," she said. "They said most of his injuries were flesh wounds. We can see him, but…" she looked at Jace, clearly trying to find words.

"He probably doesn't want to see the person who just shot him."

Jess smiled apologetically. "Probably not."

Jace shrugged. Not like Adrian knew her, anyway. She was glad he was okay, though. "I'll hang out here," she said. She glanced around. "Where's Dean?"

"He took off for the cafeteria," Jess said.

"He's probably hitting on one of the nurses by now," Sam noted drily.

Jace smirked and shook her head. "Go see Adrian. I'll be out here."

She watched Jess and Sam leave, tilting her head slightly.

Sam reached for Jess's hand. Jess put her hands in her pockets.

Jace bit her lip and went back to the waiting room.

* * *

_1747 hrs. _

_Still at the hospital. Adrian is awake. Apparently most of the injuries were flesh wounds, which is good. Glad I didn't kill him. Sam and Jess are visiting him. I don't know where Dean is and I don't care. _

_Dad isn't in Jericho. They found his journal. It had coordinates for Dean. D+S are gonna check it out once everything w/ Adrian and Jess gets settled. I'm babysitting. :C Sam promised to keep me posted though. _

_Called Aiden. He will be here in a couple days to help. So that will be fun at least. _

_P.S. We didn't get to celebrate Halloween this year. :C_

* * *

**November 3rd, 2005**

**11:30 PM**

Jace shifted in the chair, curling into herself more. Her legs were dangling over the arm. The chair wasn't made to sleep in. She had her doubts as to whether it had been made to sit in. Still, she'd slept in worse; this insomnia was uncharacteristic for her, but not surprising under the circumstances.

Last night, she'd slept like a rock. Just crashed in the back of the Impala and slept until Sam and Dean kicked her out so they could go to Colorado.

Now, though, sleep seemed impossible. A few feet away, she could hear Adrian on the couch, not snoring so much as breathing loudly. He'd been discharged that evening and although he'd said he was fine at the time-insisted on going home to be alone, actually-he'd shown up just a few hours later asking to stay. He didn't say why, and neither Jess nor Jace had asked; it wasn't hard to guess why, and she couldn't blame him for not wanting to be alone. To be honest, the thought of him alone had worried her before he'd shown up.

Now, though, having him there was uncomfortable, and she wasn't sure why. She was used to sharing sleeping space. Maybe it was because he was a stranger, or because of the whole "tried to kill her yesterday" thing, but it felt like more than that.

It was a strange fear that crept up on her as she watched him. Not fear of him, but for him. It felt outside of her and yet inside at the same time, gripping her heart and filling her lungs, slowly, so she almost didn't notice until it hit her all at once, and suddenly it seemed she would pass out or die unless she got out right then.

She stood up, shaking, and went onto the balcony, grabbing her journal off the floor. She tossed it onto the cheap lawn chair and then gripped the rail tightly and closed her eyes, breathing in the night air.

She stood there, breathing, until the fear finally began to fade. Once she was able, she picked up her journal, sat down, and flipped it open. She stared at the blank page for a long moment before beginning to write, flipping a few pages back to pick up where an earlier entry had left off.

_Where is Dad?_

_-Sent me away under false pretenses_

_-Left Jericho immediately after (spec.)_

_-Left coordinates for Dean; knew we would look for him_

_2\. What does the demon want with us?_

_-Killed mom _

_-Tried to kill Jess in the same way_

_-Knew me? (spec)_

_-How far does "us" extend? _

_Dad | __Mom_

_Sam | __Jess_

_3\. Why did Isabel see will-o-the-wisps?_

She stared at the last line for a long moment before she leaned her head back, closing her eyes again. Making lists usually relaxed her, organized her mind somehow, but tonight there was just too much-too many things weighing on her, too many questions without answers, too many open ends.

She stood up again, slowly, and pulled her phone out. Hit speed dial number one.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If it's an emergency, call my son Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

_Beep. _

"Hey, Dad." She realized with a start that her voice was shaking, and when had the tears built up behind her eyes? She couldn't remember. She cleared her throat. "I just...um, Dean found your journal, and I just wanted to…" she bit her lip hard. "Why didn't you want me to come find you? Why did you only leave the coordinates for Dean?"

That was it-the other reason, the bigger reason she hadn't come. Because John hadn't wanted her to.

She hated the sound of her voice, though. Even as she said it, she made her voice soft, her words fast, as if afraid of being overhead. She knew how spoiled she sounded.

She hit a button to delete the message and started again.

"Hi Daddy." Her voice was more steady, this time, but she was sniffling a little, like a kid. Ugh. "Um, it's Jace. Dean and Sam are on their way to find you. I just wanted you to know that I miss you and I hope-I know you're okay. But yeah. I just wanted to say that. I love you...bye."

It didn't help as much as she hoped it would.

* * *

Dean glanced over at his brother in the passenger seat. Despite the late hour, Sam was still awake, looking out the window with his face propped up by his hand.

"You got something weighin' on you, pal, or you just too used to pulling college all-nighters?"

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, sorry. Just…"

"Worried about Jess?"

"Yeah." And he was, but that wasn't all of it. There was also the lingering question of why demons seemed to be targeting his family specifically-although he was hoping his dad could answer that one, he couldn't quite let it go, either.

And then there was Jace.

He was glad that she was with Jess, of course-for both her sake and for Jess's. But that didn't change the unsettling feeling he'd gotten when Jace agreed to stay.

Agreed. Just like that.

She should have fought, she should have demanded to come, she should have done _something_.

He looked over at Dean. "Hey, Jace knows the coordinates were addressed to her too, right?"

Dean was quiet for a moment longer than Sam would've liked.

"Of course she does."

* * *

**A/N:** I wanna clarify that Jace does not the draw smileys in her notebook sideways. I do, because I'm a nerd, but I don't think she spends enough time on the internet to have picked up the habit.


	7. AN and Excerpt

a/n: Hey everyone! So this chapter is only kind of an update. What I want to do is make an author's note that I'm sure will be read but since ffnet doesn't allow a/ns-as-chapters I decided to also post an excerpt of chapter 7 to cover my ass. The other reason I'm doing that is because I feel bad for A. how long I've made you wait, and B. what I'm about to say, which is: I'm rewriting GUP.

You can read about why I made this decision on my Jace blog (joancamilla dot tumblr dot com) but the short version is: I don't enjoy writing this story anymore, and I haven't for a long time. I'm unhappy with what I've written so far. I'm hoping that if I start over I can start being excited about Jace again, because she's a character that is very close to my heart.

The new story will be posted as a separate story, under the name Smoke and Mirrors. The plotline as it stands up to this point will probably largely stay the same, but the writing itself will change. One change I plan on making is shorter chapters with quicker updates, not by removing content, but by breaking it up. (Writing long chapters is one of the things I forced myself to do despite hating it.) Additionally, future plot points may be altered.

If anyone would like me to personally inform them when the new story is up, you can shoot me a message and I'll make a note to do just that. I hope you guys will stay along for the ride but if you're done then I completely understand, and wish you all the best. Thank you for supporting this story as it stands now.

And now here is part of chapter seven. I supposed you can consider this a preview/promo for the new story, as well as a peace offering.

* * *

The walk through the woods back to the parking lot wasn't long, but it was long enough for Jace to slip into her head, and she was startled when she came through the trees to find Adrian leaning against her truck.

"Adrian?"

He jumped and looked over at her, looking as startled as she did.

"Jace. Hey."

"Hey. Um, Aiden said you were heading home…?"

"Uh, yeah. I just, I left my jacket…" He jerked a thumb at her car.

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah! Sorry." Jace went around and unlocked the driver's side door, then hit the button to unlock the passenger seat. Adrian opened the door, but didn't grab his jacket; just waited for her to hop into the driver's seat before clearing his throat.

Jace looked over at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

Adrian was slightly unsettled that she immediately assumed something was wrong, but it was fair enough, considered how he was these days. "Nothing, I just...you're heading to...that one town, right? A couple hours away. With the...walls…"

Jace's mouth twitched in a smile. "Jericho."

"Yeah, that one. I just…" he swallowed and almost backed out, but then pushed ahead. "I wondered if I could tag along."

Jace hesitated. Admittedly, she'd been looking forward to a break from...well, Adrian, as horrible as that sounded. But then, she could see why Adrian himself would need a break too. Probably more than she did.

She nodded finally. "Sure. But I'm-I was planning on leaving now. So maybe we could go by your apartment and you could pack a bag and then we'll go?"

Adrian visibly relaxed as soon as she said that he could come. He nodded quickly and hopped inside the truck. "Absolutely. It won't take long, I pack quick, I promise."

Jace nodded and started the truck. She opened her mouth to say something, but she wasn't sure what to say, so she closed it, biting her lip, and kept her eyes trained on the road.

She almost didn't hear him when he mumbled "Thanks, by the way," a few moments later.

"Anytime."

* * *

A/N: Okay so I have no idea if this is common knowledge or not but I'm gonna throw it in just in case: the reason Adrian refers to Jericho as the town "with the walls" is because in the Bible, Jericho was a city surrounded by walls. Joshua (prophet, took over after Moses kicked it) decided that this was the first city the Israelites would conquer (after their 40 years of wandering the desert).

So God told them to walk around the city walls once a day for six days, in a specific procession, and on the seventh day to circle the city seven more times and then just fuckin shout at it and blow their horns at it and the walls will fall down, and they did. The Bible is a wild ride tbh and I'm saying that as a person of Abrahamic faith.


End file.
